I continued on to answer the call, savoring the very ordinary, very natural moment for an instant before lifting the handset.
“Hello.”
“I’m sending a car for you.”
It was Schiavo. There was impatience, maybe frustration in her voice, but no urgency.
“All right,” I said. “Elaine was going over to help Grace for a while.”
“You can fill her in later,” Schiavo said.
That meant that something consequential had occurred. That it wasn’t earth shattering enough to warrant telling me immediately was good. That the captain had decided to hold the information close until we could be face to face was likely not.
* * *
T wenty minutes later, three of us stood with Private Westin in the communications center which had been set up in the garrison’s portion of the town hall, Schiavo next to her private, who was responsible for the devices which connected us, in a very limited way, with the outside world.
“So the radio is malfunctioning?” Mayor Allen asked, seeking clarification of what the young soldier had just told us.
“You don’t understand,” Westin said, looking to Mayor Allen, and then to me. “We’re sending. But there’s nothing receiving. There’s no carrier signal.”
Schiavo drew a breath and eyed the town’s leader.
“It’s like a dial tone on a phone,” Schiavo explained. “You pick up the handset and hear that, and you know the system is functioning.”
“There’s no signal from the satellite,” Mayor Allen said, hinting at an understanding.
“Maybe no satellite at all,” Westin suggested.
“Let’s not go there yet,” Schiavo said.
“It could be a simple malfunction,” I said. “Right?”
Schiavo nodded, though there was little conviction in the expression.
“Those things are built to be robust,” Westin told us. “You’d have to shoot it out of orbit.”
For an instant, Schiavo was silent. Until the alternative to what her soldier was suggesting rose to the level of possibility in her thoughts.
“Or shut it down,” the captain said.
“Can that be done?” Mayor Allen asked.
All eyes shifted to Westin, and without any hesitation he nodded.
“If authorized,” he answered.
“We’re way past the powers that be worrying about proper authorizations,” I said. “If there’s a switch somewhere that can cut us off, and someone wants us cut off, they’ll throw it.”
“It appears they may already have,” the mayor said.
No one had said it yet, but the ramifications of this development had effects both near and far.
“We can’t reach the Rushmore ,” I said.
“No,” Westin confirmed.
“There goes giving them any warning about our needs,” Schiavo said.
She thought for a moment, and I watched her as she did. Watched her too closely, as my interest drew her attention. Her gaze shifted and met mine, some unspoken question in it. Since Martin’s revelation earlier that day that he and his wife were expecting, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. About the very real fear he’d told us she felt. To make the world whole again there would have to be children, but with the burden Angela Schiavo already carried, the weight of command and leadership and lives depending upon her, the addition of a new life to the mix could very understandably add almost crushing stress to her existence. I was concerned for her, and it showed.
“Is there a problem, Fletch?”
It was more than a question she posed. It was almost a challenge.
“Just trying to understand our com issues,” I said, deflecting her concern with a partial lie.
“There’s not a whole lot to understand,” Mayor Allen said, catching on fully now. “We’re cut off.”
“By our side or theirs?” I asked.
“Or some other faction we don’t even know about,” Mayor Allen suggested.
Schiavo eyed me for a moment more, then shook her head.
“No,” she said. “It’s our friends out there. The Unified Government. This is coordinated, not a
“Hello.”
“I’m sending a car for you.”
It was Schiavo. There was impatience, maybe frustration in her voice, but no urgency.
“All right,” I said. “Elaine was going over to help Grace for a while.”
“You can fill her in later,” Schiavo said.
That meant that something consequential had occurred. That it wasn’t earth shattering enough to warrant telling me immediately was good. That the captain had decided to hold the information close until we could be face to face was likely not.
* * *
T wenty minutes later, three of us stood with Private Westin in the communications center which had been set up in the garrison’s portion of the town hall, Schiavo next to her private, who was responsible for the devices which connected us, in a very limited way, with the outside world.
“So the radio is malfunctioning?” Mayor Allen asked, seeking clarification of what the young soldier had just told us.
“You don’t understand,” Westin said, looking to Mayor Allen, and then to me. “We’re sending. But there’s nothing receiving. There’s no carrier signal.”
Schiavo drew a breath and eyed the town’s leader.
“It’s like a dial tone on a phone,” Schiavo explained. “You pick up the handset and hear that, and you know the system is functioning.”
“There’s no signal from the satellite,” Mayor Allen said, hinting at an understanding.
“Maybe no satellite at all,” Westin suggested.
“Let’s not go there yet,” Schiavo said.
“It could be a simple malfunction,” I said. “Right?”
Schiavo nodded, though there was little conviction in the expression.
“Those things are built to be robust,” Westin told us. “You’d have to shoot it out of orbit.”
For an instant, Schiavo was silent. Until the alternative to what her soldier was suggesting rose to the level of possibility in her thoughts.
“Or shut it down,” the captain said.
“Can that be done?” Mayor Allen asked.
All eyes shifted to Westin, and without any hesitation he nodded.
“If authorized,” he answered.
“We’re way past the powers that be worrying about proper authorizations,” I said. “If there’s a switch somewhere that can cut us off, and someone wants us cut off, they’ll throw it.”
“It appears they may already have,” the mayor said.
No one had said it yet, but the ramifications of this development had effects both near and far.
“We can’t reach the Rushmore ,” I said.
“No,” Westin confirmed.
“There goes giving them any warning about our needs,” Schiavo said.
She thought for a moment, and I watched her as she did. Watched her too closely, as my interest drew her attention. Her gaze shifted and met mine, some unspoken question in it. Since Martin’s revelation earlier that day that he and his wife were expecting, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. About the very real fear he’d told us she felt. To make the world whole again there would have to be children, but with the burden Angela Schiavo already carried, the weight of command and leadership and lives depending upon her, the addition of a new life to the mix could very understandably add almost crushing stress to her existence. I was concerned for her, and it showed.
“Is there a problem, Fletch?”
It was more than a question she posed. It was almost a challenge.
“Just trying to understand our com issues,” I said, deflecting her concern with a partial lie.
“There’s not a whole lot to understand,” Mayor Allen said, catching on fully now. “We’re cut off.”
“By our side or theirs?” I asked.
“Or some other faction we don’t even know about,” Mayor Allen suggested.
Schiavo eyed me for a moment more, then shook her head.
“No,” she said. “It’s our friends out there. The Unified Government. This is coordinated, not a
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